“When I found she wasn’t,” said Hepsy, “I began to feel a little riled myself, for I knowed that she had the ugliest temper that ever was born, and, says I, she’s run away and been froze to death, and then such a rumpus as Oliver made. I thought he’d go——” Her sentence was cut short by a cry of joy from Mildred, who, from the window, caught sight of the crippled boy moving slowly through the drifts, which greatly impeded his progress. Hastening to the door she drew him in out of the storm, brushed the snow from his thin hair, and folding her arms about him, sobbed out, “Oliver, I ain’t dead, but I’ve run away. I can’t live with _her_ any more, though if you feel so bad about it, maybe I’ll go back. Shall I?” Before Oliver could reply, Hepsy chimed in, “Go back, to be sure you will, my fine madame. I’ll teach you what is what;” and seizing Mildred’s hood, which lay upon the hat-stand, she began to tie it upon the screaming child, who struggled violently to get away, and succeeding at last ran for protection behind the Judge. “Keep her, Judge Howell, please keep her,” whispered Oliver, while Mildred’s eyes flashed out their gratitude to him for thus interfering in her behalf. “Woman!” and the Judge’s voice was like a clap of thunder, while his heavy boot came down with a vengeance as he grasped the bony arm of Hepsy, who was making a dive past him after Mildred. “Woman, get out of my house! Quick too, and if I catch you here again after anybody’s child, I’ll pull every hair out of your head. Do you hear, you she-dragon? Begone, I say; start. Move faster than that!” and he accelerated her movements with a shove, which sent her quite to the door, where she stood for an instant, threatening to take the law of him, and shaking her fist at Mildred, who, holding fast to the coat-skirts of the Judge, knew she had nothing to fear. After a moment Hepsy began to cry, and assuming a deeply injured tone, she bade Oliver “Come.” Not till then had Mildred fully realized that if she stayed at Beechwood she must be separated from her beloved playmate, and clutching him as he arose to follow his grandmother, she whispered, “If you want me, Oliver, I’ll go.” He _did_ want her, oh, so much, for he knew how lonely the gable-roof would be without her, but it was far better that she should not return, and so, with a tremendous effort the unselfish boy stilled the throbbings of his heart, and whispered back: “I’d rather you’d stay here, Milly, and maybe _he’ll_ let me come some time to see you.” “Every day, every day,” answered the Judge, who could not help admiring the young boy for preferring Mildred’s happiness to his own. “There, I’m glad that’s over,” he said, when, as the door closed upon Hepsy and Oliver, he led Mildred back to the breakfast room, asking her if she didn’t want some more buckwheats.